


Prestidigitation

by methylviolet10b



Series: October Spooktacular 2019 [3]
Category: Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms, Sherlock Holmes - Arthur Conan Doyle
Genre: Fluff, Gen, Prompt Fill
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-28
Updated: 2019-10-28
Packaged: 2021-01-05 12:27:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 522
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21208523
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/methylviolet10b/pseuds/methylviolet10b
Summary: Watson provides an unexpected cure at the conclusion of a case.





	Prestidigitation

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [Престидижитация](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22998148) by [Little_Unicorn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Little_Unicorn/pseuds/Little_Unicorn)

> Written for prompt #4 of the October Spooktacular on Watson's Woes.

“And there it is!” Watson produced the tuppence with a flourish. His young audience gasped appreciatively, and the young boy from whose ear Watson had plucked the tuppence first grabbed that appendage, and then shook his head, as if to coax yet more tuppences to fall out.

The children demanded Watson do it again, make the ‘magic tuppence’ disappear and reappear somewhere else. Each child clearly hoped that he or she would be the lucky recipient.

My friend shot me a quick, amused grin before starting his routine again with the tuppence. This happy, curious crowd was a far cry from the frightened, silent children we’d rescued from the basement just a few hours previously. I was glad to see it, and gladder still that we would soon have reinforcements, people who could take over the care of these children until they could be reunited with their families.

Those that had families. From the signs at least three likely had none, or at least none worthy of the name. I could only hope that their futures, whatever they might be, would be kinder than their pasts.

And speaking of pasts, I had no idea before today that Watson was versed in minor arts of prestidigitation. He was cheerful about it, indulging in it with both whimsy and enjoyment, which strongly suggested it was not a skill he had learned in his childhood or from his family. Perhaps it was something he had picked up during his time in the Army, although often enough reminders of that time also brought up mixed feelings.

“It’s something I learned as part of my surgeon training,” Watson told me with a smile when I asked him about it over a late supper, after we were finally relieved of our erstwhile charges. “Slight of hand, or prestidigitation as our lecturer would have it, helps hone reflexes and perfect small movements of the fingers.”

“I could see that,” I agreed. “Not so useful as pick-pocketing, perhaps, but less likely to land you in trouble.”

Watson snorted and stroked his moustache. “True enough. We managed quite enough trouble on our own.”

“I can imagine.” And I could; although Watson had rarely mentioned his youthful adventures, I knew very well what an excellent companion he was. His classmates could not have failed to notice it as well.

Watson did not notice my momentary distraction and continued following his own thought. “The performance aspect helps young would-be doctors learn how to bluff and improve their bedside manners. Or so he claimed. Personally I found card-games better for learning how to bluff, but my fellow students and I enjoyed practicing the coin-tricks.” His grin grew wider as he remembered something that amused him, and then his eyes focused on me. They lost none of their twinkle. “Not to mention it’s a useful thing sometimes, to be able to surprise people. Very few patients or their families expect the staid and sober physician attending them to pull a coin out of their nose, or ear, or whatever they say is paining them. Laughter really is good medicine.”

Laughing myself, I could only agree.


End file.
